


it’s a new dawn, it’s a new day

by MinilocIsland



Category: SKAM (Norway)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Or Sort Of, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pre-Negotiated Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-08
Updated: 2019-03-08
Packaged: 2019-11-13 13:50:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18032942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MinilocIsland/pseuds/MinilocIsland
Summary: Perhaps Isak should be surprised to wake up to this. On the other hand, he’s kind of... not.





	it’s a new dawn, it’s a new day

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Treehouse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Treehouse/gifts).



> Happy Birthday, babe! Hope you have the best day, and that you enjoy your present :)  
> And everyone else - have some Friday smut!
> 
> Title from Nina Simone, just because.  
> Thanks to darling Immy for reading this through!

At first he doesn’t even realize he’s waking up. Body limp and heavy, too big, like he’s merely a small being floating around inside it.

Slowly, he becomes conscious enough to know that this isn’t just a dream.

The first thing he registers after that is that he’s warm, and how the duvet clings to his legs and his feet, a little sticky, sweaty. The next thing is that it’s already light in the bedroom, a red glow in front of his closed eyes. 

And, third, there’s a wet, wheezing sound to his left, not far away.

His head is still too melted into the pillow to turn, his eyelids too heavy to open, but he’d know the sound of Even’s breath anywhere. Even half asleep like this, barely conscious, there’s no mistaking it. 

In seconds, he surfaces enough to become aware that these are not the kind of sounds that Even makes in his sleep. Not unless he’s having a very intense dream. 

And the rhythmic, steady rustling of the duvet wouldn’t occur if Even wasn’t awake, either. 

If he wasn’t still paralyzed from head to toe, he’d be smiling. 

It’s not the first time this happens –  _ this _ meaning that one of them wakes up before the other, hot and longing and unable to contain themselves. 

(He’s pretty sure that’s what’s happening here).

The first time, it had been himself who woke up in the middle of a  _ very _ intense dream. Even had been in it, and there had been dicks and hands and tongues, details evading him but it didn’t really matter – but when he woke up, he realized that his own hand was on his own dick, and that Even had put a hand on his arm, waking him up in the middle of it –

He’d been too turned on to be embarrassed just then, had gone along with it and let Even finish him off, then himself, but afterwards –

His cheeks had kind of burned as they’d talked it over, even though Even had assured him it had been nothing but  _ insanely _ hot. But, Even had also told him that he didn’t want to overstep Isak’s boundaries by watching him without him knowing, and so he’d woken him up. Just to make sure.

Part of him had wanted to roll his eyes at his overbearing boyfriend, while another part was flooded with warmth and affection for how considerate he really is. How, even in that kind of situation, he put Isak’s comfort and well-being over his own.

And, well, a third part of him couldn’t stop thinking that the whole thing had been really fucking hot.

Even had asked how he would have felt if it would have been the other way around. If  _ Even _ had been the one touching himself in his sleep, and Isak had been awake to see it. 

He can’t deny that all the blood that had started circulating in his body again returned to his dick pretty quickly. 

And, well, Even had noticed, of course, attentive as he is, and then they’d talked some more, and agreed on a couple of things. And it was all good. As usual.

And a few times after that, Isak has woken up pressed against Even’s side, bony hip jutting into his own stomach, dick trapped against Even’s thigh. 

And if he’s woken Even up by rubbing against him – well, neither of them has complained. They’ve both perfectly agreed that it’s allowed.  _ More _ than allowed, even. 

However, this is the first time that it’s the other way around.

That Even is the one that, apparently, couldn’t wait for Isak to wake up. 

Not if the consistent scraping of skin against fabric to his left is anything to go by. Or, for that matter, the half-constrained, quick pants coming from somewhere close to his ear.

Part of him wants to stay exactly like this; stark still, eyes closed, just listening. Pretending to be asleep. 

To find out what Even will do if he thinks Isak doesn’t notice.

Another part of him, however, wants to see. 

See what Even looks like as he touches himself. If his cheeks are red. If the hair at his temple is damp, plastered to his skin. If his mouth hangs open in this moment, if the tip of his tongue is peeking out from behind his teeth. If his eyes are open; if they’re dark, glazed over. 

If he’ll be closing them as he comes.

That thought alone is far too tempting for Isak to let it pass.

So, willing his body into cooperating, Isak turns his face towards Even, slowly, carefully, and opens his eyes.

There’s no doubt that he did the right thing. 

Even is lying on his side, facing him. His eyes are half-lidded, pupils black and dilated in the warm, dim morning light, and he looks almost pleading as he fastens his gaze straight on Isak. The duvet on top of his chest is rising and falling as Even moves his arm, and his breath is coming out short, between dry, slightly parted lips. 

It’s obvious that he’s already getting close. 

As many times as they’ve had sex, Isak knows exactly what that blush creeping up the side of Even’s neck means. What’s going to happen next, probably within the next minute, as his breathing turns ragged and shallow. 

Isak can see how Even fights to keep his eyes open. Eyelashes fluttering, gaze turning unfocused, only almost meeting Isak’s own.

So he doesn’t say anything. Just lifts his hand and lays it down on Even’s cheek, the skin there damp and hot under his palm. Strokes his thumb along Even’s lower lip, and watches as his mouth falls open even further.

Hears the rustling of the duvet speed up as he lets his thumb slip further inside, lets it scrape across Even’s teeth and touch the tip of his tongue. The warmth and wetness sending tingles all the way up through his arm, into his chest, down his stomach, and to his dick. A surging feeling filling his chest, want coursing through his bones as Even’s eyes suddenly fall shut.

And then, a series of short, breathy whines rise from Even’s throat as his whole body jerks, duvet rising and falling one, two, three more times, before he stills. 

Lets his head fall to the side, face halfway into the pillow, Isak’s hand following, stroking his jaw.

Hair a mess on top of his head, mouth still ajar.

And then his eyelids flutter open.

Isak can’t help but smile as their eyes meet, and Even follows suit; a small, happy smile that almost borders on shy. 

“Hi,” he says in a hoarse, broken voice, and Isak laughs.

“Hi yourself.” He cards his fingers through the sweaty strands of hair above Even’s ear, before letting them come to rest around his neck. “That was – was it good?”

Even bites his lip, eyes twinkling in that way they do when he thinks Isak is being cute. “It was. Really good.”

“I almost guessed.” He tries to wink at Even, but probably fails, because his eyes shine brighter than ever.

Even licks his lips, and moves his face a little closer to Isak’s. “I – I’m glad you woke up.” 

“Me too.” Isak traces a finger along the line of vertebrae on his neck; up, down, and up again. “It was pretty… pretty hot when – when you were looking at me like that.”

“Yeah?” Even’s lifts his eyebrows, still smiling, but there’s a trace of excitement in his eyes now.

There’s warmth pooling in Isak’s stomach as he clears his throat, and says, “Yeah.”

“So.” Even’s voice is still sleep-rough, but maybe there’s a little more depth to it than before as he says. “These sheets will, you know. Need changing anyway.”

There’s still that tingle down his spine, spreading to his thighs, his crotch, and it doesn’t diminish from the thought of Even’s come that’s surely coating his hand  _ right now _ – and the sheets, maybe his stomach – 

“Yeah. Probably.”

“I’m just saying.” Even licks his lips. “That maybe – maybe it’s your turn now.”

A sharp tug inside his stomach, a prickling at the back of his throat as it suddenly turns dry. 

“If – if you want to, I mean.” Even suddenly looks unsure, eyes widening a little, and Isak draws a quick breath.

“No! I mean – yes.” He swallows. “As in – yes. I want to.”

The smile finds its way back onto Even’s face as Isak scoots closer. Puts his lips on Even’s, and lets his own hand find its way to his crotch.

It’s a kind of weird feeling. Not that they haven’t touched themselves in front of each other before, but he stills feels a little – exposed.

Like he shouldn’t be wrapping his own hand around his dick right now, when Even is just lying there, happy and finished and sated. When Even is kissing him, slow and languid, as Isak feels the wetness at the tip against his thumb and spreads it around. 

His dick is harder than he thought it would be. But it shouldn’t be surprising, really. It’s not like he doesn’t know how Even can turn him on. 

Like this, sweeping the tip of his tongue against Isak’s lips. Swallowing his moans as he grabs a tight hold around his dick and starts moving his hand, up and down. Twists it a little, and moves his hand all the way up, trying to gather the precome and smear himself with it.

He tries to go slow, he really does, but he doesn’t manage for long. 

It just feels too fucking good.

Morning breaths mingling between them, and it doesn’t matter at all how stale it smells – it’s  _ them,  _ and Even’s hand has come out from under the duvet now, it’s sticky against his neck as he grabs on to it, fingers in the hair at the back of Isak’s head as he draws him closer, and closer –

It doesn’t take more than a minute for him to finish, panting against Even’s lips, eyes closed, stomach contracting as he comes all over his own hand and over the sheets, pulse hammering in his ears, shutting everything else out.

Everything except the waves rising and falling in his stomach. Except Even’s breath, hot on his lips, nose touching his, foreheads sweaty against each other.

It takes a minute or so before he manages to open his eyes.

Only to find Even watching him with that fond smile. Not the amused one from before, but the one where he looks almost dreamy, like he almost can’t believe what he sees. Thumb circling the skin behind Isak’s ear, he leans in and kisses him again.

It’s soft, quiet, and lingering. Only lips on lips, before Even draws back, and raises his eyebrows.

“When did you – when did you wake up? Really?” Even smiles, and bites his lip, looking almost bashful.

Isak smiles back, resting his head to the side. “Just – just before I turned around and looked at you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He licks his lips. “I kind of – kind of thought that I would just lie there and listen to you getting yourself off, but then I – I really wanted to see.” 

“You didn’t see much,” Even says. “Only my face.”

Isak can feel the grin spreading over his own face as he sinks back into the pillow. “Believe me. It was enough. Totally.”

“Yeah?” Even tilts his chin down, looking incredulous. “You mean you don’t need to see any more of – of this?”

Isak laughs as Even makes a gesture with his hand down the duvet covering his body. “I do. You know I do. But – yeah. It was pretty hot, just seeing your face like that, knowing what you were doing and. You know.”

“I know.” Even nods, and smiles again. “You looked pretty hot as well when. You know.”

And at that, Isak can’t do anything but lean in and kiss him once more. His hand is still sticky under the duvet, come drying and cracking up on the skin of his arm, sweat starting to itch between his thighs – but it doesn’t matter. 

**Author's Note:**

> Come talk to me on [tumblr](https://irazor.tumblr.com)!


End file.
